


Meeting the Mother

by jehanjetaime



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cosette And Enjolras Are Siblings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Trans Character, Transgender Enjolras, sober!Grantaire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:01:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanjetaime/pseuds/jehanjetaime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another fake relationship fic, because you got to love the classics. </p><p>Grantaire has promised his mother that he WILL bring a date to her 50th birthday party. The only problem is that he has not had a serious relationship in years. What's a man to do?</p><p>Lie his ass off and find the person who can pull off a dinner-and-dancing garden party with enough finesse that no one, least of all his mother, finds out what they're doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Grantaire Lies

"Mother darling, have I ever lied to you? ...uh. Don't answer that. But that was in the past! I'm a grown man now, a full grown man with the maturity and wisdom that comes with my age!" 

"Yavrum*, you are 26, you know nothing. If this is maturity, then you might as well never have left high school." Laughter on each end of the phone was deep and gravelly. Grantaire was the clone of his mother. From birth he had always looked exactly like her - round of face, round of body. Warm eyes, dark skin, hair that curled so much it became impossible to comb. Prominent nose. And he took after her personlity, too. They had the same sense of humor, the same way of brooding, the same harsh laugh when they were really hurting inside. 

That was an honour for Grantaire. He loved his mother more than anyone in the world. Sure, his father was a good man, but his mother was an angel. A saint. Even when she was mocking him. And even he was boldly lying to her. "I promise you, I have a date. I will not bring shame upon the family name by coming alone."

"At least tell me what to expect! Are you bringing a young man? A young lady? Someone like you, or a respectable sort?"

Another laugh, and Grantaire wagged his finger back and forth as if his mom could see it. "You'll have to see!! It will be a surprise as much as your present will be! Now goodbye, I love you. I'll see you in a week."

In a week. Grantaire had not told his mother a single thing about his date for one very special reason: he did not have one yet. He sighed and tapped his fingers against the table. There were a few possibilities...but none of them were good. He needed to plan. He needed to plot.

He needed to make another phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yavrum - Turkish term of endearment meaning 'my baby.' If this isn't right or doesn't have the proper connotations for a mother/son relationship, please let me know! The Internet is not always helpful.
> 
> I know this is silly and fake relationship AUs for Enjoltaire is done a lot, but I just wanted to do something fun!


	2. In Which Grantaire, Joly, and Bossuet Make Plans of a CIA Caliber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is so ridiculous

Joly and Bossuet were more than happy to meet him for dinner, and were already at the diner, at their usual table, when he showed up. He flopped in next to Joly, across from Bossuet, and dramatically threw his head into his hands. "I am a fool of grandeur, as ass of epic proportions!"

"Uh oh," Bossuet said, moving his soda out of the way. "He's using an awful lot of syllables. Something must be really wrong. At least let us order before you dive into it, buddy."

Grantaire hauled himself up. "Fine. We'll need food to get through this." 

They placed their orders, and Grantaire pulled his tablet out, setting it on the table where everyone could see. He opened up a drawing app, and wrote '50' out with his fingertip, then circled it. Joly and Bossuet spared a glance at each other. "50? Joly finally ventured. "50...what exactly? Cheeseburgers? Dogs? Free-range chickens?

"No. Years." Grantaire underlined it for emphasis. "50 years my mother has been on the planet. 50 years she has blessed humanity with her presence. In exactly one week, 50 years. She is having a birthday party. And I have a dilemma."

Silence, but two serious nods from his friends.

"I have made her a promise, one that I cannot break, and I have no clue how to keep myself from breaking it."

"What sort of promise?" Joly asked. "To avenge her death before it happens so she can enjoy it?"

Their laughter made Grantaire slap the back of his hand to his forehead. "Laugh as you will! This time next week you'll be coming to my funeral, moaning the fact that you mocked me now instead of helping me!"

"Alright, lay it on us. What are we meant to help you with?"

"I need a date." His serious eyes went from Joly's round, soft face to Bossuet's nearly square, angular one. "I promised her, multiple times, that I will have a date. A date I like enough to bring to a family event. She wanted me to be happy so very badly that I couldn't break her heart and tell her that I have no one to bring."

Joly sipped at his water. "And you don't have one? Famous flirt Grantaire doesn't have anyone to act as a date?"

"I know, it's a shocker." Grantaire labeled the top of his drawing with 'DATE????' then sighed. He was so unsure. "What I need is options. I have been very vague about this date, so I can bring anyone, any sort of person. I just don't know who. It's too bad she's met the two of you so many times. Wait, has she met Chetta?"

"No, but she's commented on pictures of us dancing on Facebook. It's a risk you wouldn't want to take." Bossuet leaned back just as their basket of fries was brought out. He smiled at the wait person, then grabbed a fry to tap against his chin as he thought. "Could you tell her that you and Éponine finally realized your lifelong friendship is much more?"

Grantaire shook his head. "No, she would want to know why we didn't tell her and might even ask around, you know how nosy she is." For organization's sake, he wrote out each discussed person and marked them through with a thick black line. "Let's see."

Around the '50', he wrote out:  
Ferre  
Courf  
Feuilly  
Bahorel  
Jehan  
Azelma

Each name was circled and attached to the '50,' making a messy diagram. Grantaire paused, trying to think of anyone else.

"What about Enjolras?" Joly asked.

Without removing his finger from the tablet, Grantaire shook his head. No one needed to know how handsome he really thought that man was, anyways. That was a path he didn't need to go down. "Does he honestly seem the type?"

"I guess not...hm. Cosette! She's much more fun than her brother. Oh, and Marius!"

Those names went down, as well as Mattie and Gibby, two young ladies that worked at their favourite cafe and who were always up for a good time. Grantaire ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He took a break once his burger comes to take a massive bite. "Alright," he said over a sip of soda. "Let's think. Ferre is a good choice. He's smart. He dresses nicely. Mom would like him."

Joly was the one to reach over to the tablet and, changing the colour to green, draw a smiley face in Ferre's circle. And then one in Courf's circle. "You know he'd love to do that sort of thing. And if he finds out you're doing this and DON'T ask him, he'd be heartbroken."

"Get Jehan, too," Bossuet said, motioning with his sandwich. "They'd love to do that. You know confusing rich conservatives is their favourite thing."

Grantaire nodded, not even able to fight that - most of his family was made up of rich conservatives. And that would really be right up Mom's alley. She's always loved to offend her family's delicate sensibilities. Another green smiley face. And then to Cosette, the sisters, and Feuilly. As Éponine's sister, Azelma is almost as risky, and Bahorel is not Grantaire's usual type. A question mark on the tragically straight Marius. But their chart was a good one, one with a decent number of options. Grantaire nodded.

"Alright," he said. He pointed to Bossuet. "Agent Wolfheart, you ask Courf and Ferre, and Feuilly." Another finger, this time at Joly. "Agent RoboCop, get Mattie and Gibby. I'll do Jehan, Marius and Cosette. Just put out feelers, okay? Report back here in 24 hours. Right?"

He held out his hand, which was soon covered in Joly's and Bossuet's. They broke, then got back into their meals. Thank his higher power that he had friends who could make something simultaneously so fun and so serious. He knew that it didn't require so much dramatics, but why not make this a real mission?

And for him, it was serious. His mother had always been so good to him, and he was going to lie until his face turned blue to make that woman happy. Even if it included begging from his friends for help and fake dates. Was it the worst he had asked for? No. Just maybe the most interesting. But Grantaire believed in himself. He could do this.


	3. In Which Grantaire Surprise Marius, At School and In General

He could not do this. Grantaire had lay himself on the table in Jehan's massage parlor long after it closed, shirtless, face down, and with those strong hands digging into his back. Jehan looked light and wispy, but there was a lot of force in those tattooed hands. "You're not usually so tense," they hummed. "What's wrong?"

"A long day, Jehan," he groaned. Jehan was constantly giving them all free massages, and they were all constantly trying to pay. Grantaire had just started leaving grandiose amounts in the tip jar. But right now he needed this massage. It had been a long time, and with his physically demanding job AND hobbies, this sort of thing really helped. "Tell me, my love, are you busy next Sunday? Could you perhaps schedule someone else to work for you?"

"Why would that be?" Even though Jehan was the owner of the whole place, they hated scheduling people. _Why should I try to control someone's day?_ they always ask. _Because you're paying them,_ is the right answer, but never one they like to hear. 

"Because I need to bring a date to a family thing. It's my dear mother's birthday, and her only wish is to see her darling boy with a date he...well. She said nothing about my being in LOVE with my date. But she meant it, I know!" Grantaire grunted when Jehan's fingers pushed into a tight knot. "And I was wondering if you would do me the honour of pretending to be my datemate all day."

"Let me check, darling." The loss of Jehan's hands on Grantaire's skin felt like a punishment. He pushed himself up, then into a sitting position. Jehan disappeared behind a curtain of wooden beads that cackled against each other pleasantly. The beads had only just stopped moving when Jehan bust back through them, a clipboard in their grasp. They jumped up onto the massage table next to Grantaire and flipped through the papers. "I'm sorry, I don't have anyone to come in that day. I'm the only one available."

They watched him curiously, one pierced eyebrow arched up into brightly dyed hair. "Why are you lying to her?"

"Because I can't break her heart! She asked me months ago if I was bringing a date, and I told her I'd see what I could do. And she just took that and...ran with it! So now I'm stuck. Are you sure you can't do it?"

"I'm sure." They tapped their clipboard. "I'm sorry. You'll have to find someone else! Or you could. You know. Tell her the truth."

"Never!"

"I had a feeling you would say that. Now why don't you lay back down and I'll get the hot stones." They wiggled their fingers and slipped off the table. "You can tell me all about it, and we'll think of something."

It was a relief for Grantaire to flop back on the table.

Once home, he sent out a text. 'Agents, target one, code name Mary Jane, is a no-go. I repeat, Mary Jane is a no-go.' In no time, he received two condolences, and more bad news: Feuilly had to work that day, too. Two people knocked out immediately.

He threw his feet up on the coffee table. Tomorrow he'd get Marius and Cosette. It wouldn't be hard - they were always together, like a shark and remora. Or a tapeworm and a GI tract. If they could keep their mouths off of each other for four seconds, he would ask. Maybe if Enjolras were there; Marius was too nervous to even look at Cosette in front of her twin. 

Of course, Grantaire would love it if Enjolras were there just for the sake of him being there. Sure, Grantaire antagonized the man, but that was just because he was cute flustered, and determined to be right. There was nothing Grantaire liked more than trying to throw Enjolras off his groove. So far, he had never been successful. That beautiful mouth had an answer for everything. And Grantaire liked that, too.

Monday

"Marius! Marius, there you are!" That boy had been damn near impossible to track down! And of course, NOT with Cosette for once in his life. He was also miserable at responding to texts or messages. It was well known that he would read a text, set his phone down, then apparently disappear off of all plains of existence. Early that morning, before heading into work Grantaire had texted him, a simple 'Meet me in front of your library at 12,' and it had, unsurprisingly, gone unanswered. However, he knew Marius had a break at noon. They had met up during said break before. So there was no reason for Marius to watch him across the quad as if Grantaire were a circus clown.

"Hey!" he said, voice jovial yet unsure. He jogged over to where Grantaire as sitting, the brief physical exertion making his breath come heavier. "What are you doing here? Don't you have work?"

"I told you I was coming, remember? I texted you about it. And I'm on break." The primer on this house had to dry before they could do anything, anyways. Plus, it was lunch time.

Marius pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Oh, hey! You did! Sorry about that!"

Grantaire shrugged. This did not bode well. Marius would never convince his mother they were a happy couple. But Grantaire should ask. After all, he had gotten another no earlier, from Combeferre. He had a test on Monday and needed the weekend to cram. So that left only the sisters, Courf, Cosette, and this dolt. Which he only used affectionately. Grantaire did not want to run out of options. They moved into a cafe just off the library, got some lunch, and settled in at a table. 

He listened while Marius chattered on about his day: breakfast (with Cosette), the train ride to school (with Cosette), getting caught texting Cosette during class. It was almost sickening, but Cosette WAS Enjolras' twin, so...Grantaire thought he understood. If he was dating Enjolras, Grantire would be just as obsessed. They were a beautiful set of siblings, each passionate in their own way that Grantaire found charming, and just astonishing in every way. Cosette was great, but there was. Something about Enjolras. Too bad that he didn't seem interested in Grantaire at all.

Not that Grantaire had ever TRIED. But. Still.

When Marius finally paused for a breath, Grantaire jumped in. "So. You have any plans for this weekend?"

"Not really! Just hanging out with Cosette! Somewhere. Her brother will be at their apartment this whole weekend for once, and he's. Scary. A nice guy! But scary." They both nod. Enjolras has that intense stare. "Why?"

"Well, good buddy, good pal, you see, I seriously need a date for something. And with your honeyed curls, your glowing eyes, I was hoping...oh man, I'm sorry!" Marius, barely out of a white, hetero-heavy high school, was still learning how to not be uncomfortable around men that liked men, and Grantaire's constant teasing didn't help. But the faces he made? They were too good to pass up. "Sorry. Really. Just some friendly ribbing!"

"Grantaire! You nearly gave me...I mean! Yeah! Friendly ribbing! Ha! Ha!" 

The poor kid looked ready to faint. But he was trying, bless his heart. Grantaire held his hand up, akin to a boy scout. "I promise. No more teasing. But I do need a date."

Grantaire launched into the story while Marius chewed on his sandwich and nodded along. "So," he said once Grantaire was done. "You...want me to pretend to be your date...? All day? Near your family?"

"Well. Yes. I mean. I'm just seeing who I can get. This is something I just HAVE to do. Would you be willing?" Grantaire watched him with big smile on his face.

"I. Don't know. That sounds crazy! I'm barely used to having a REAL girlfriend, much less a FAKE boyfriend!" Marius ran his hand through his hair, unknowingly leaving a streak of mayonnaise in those curls. But before Grantaire had a chance to tell him, his mouth was open again. "Why don't you let me ask Cosette?"

Another grin, and Grantaire cupped his own chin with his hand. "That's...another question. Maybe she would be willing to be my fake girlfriend for a day."

"But she's...my girlfriend." Marius looked like a sad puppy, all sad eyes and ears that Grantaire swore drooped. Grantaire wanted to throw a ball to cheer him up.

"I'd turn off the charm for the day. Will you ask her for me? C'mon, bro." Grantaire winked at him.

Marius threw his hands up in the air. "Okay! I'll ask her for you! You win!"

"You're a hero. A real hero." The rest of lunch went quickly, talking over Grantaire's previous meeting, Marius' classes, and the bright green moped Courf was apparently zipping around the city on. Grantaire was dying to see it. Marius was a fun guy, once he got over his own nerves, and Grantaire made sure that he would try to hang out with him one-on-one more often.

They got talking and laughing so hard that Grantaire nearly lost track of the time. He bid Marius a quick farewell, then made back for the guest parking lot where his beloved motorcycle was waiting. Even if she wasn't bright green, Grantaire loved his baby. Riding around the city made it easy to clear his mind.

He didn't remember until he was back at the site that he never told Marius about the mayonnaise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is SUCH a ridiculous thing omg


	4. In Which Cosette Descends From the Heavens to Bless Grantaire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is a little on the short side, sorry!

Tuesday

Grantaire had a set ringtone for every one of his friends, He liked to know who was calling even without looking at his phone. Courf, if Crazy in Love echoed through his apartment; Stravinsky's Firebird if it were Jehan calling. The Battle Hymn of the Republic for Enjolras, which everyone but the man himself found hilarious.

So when, once he got home from his dance lesson (Breakdance for Kids, the best class idea ever, a joy to teach and something he would love to make into a full-time career), the default ringtone played, he was understandably confused. In fact, Grantaire almost let it ring. Surely it was just a telemarketer or something. But curiosity got the better of him, and this cat was not killed; it was rewarded with a chirping voice on the other end.

"Hi...Grantaire? This is Cosette!"

"Like music to my ears! Cosette!" He flopped against the back of the couch and threw his free hand up in the air victoriously. Hopefully she was calling to save him from his grisly fate. "I assume you've spoken with that luscious man of yours, then?"

"Don't let him hear you talk like that, he'll faint dead away." Cosette's soft laugh, so like that of her brothers, echoed in Grantaire's ears. She sounded like the smiley face emoji looked. "But yes, he did talk to me. And while I think it’s a silly sorta thing to get caught up in, I ALSO think it sounds fantastic! I would LOVE to do that. Plus, did you realize that the two of us have never ONCE hung out just us, so it would be fun!"

"You are a hero, dear Cosette, a hero of the highest degree! You've really saved my hide. Now, what do you say to a pre-party date, say, Thursday or Friday? We'll have to get our story straight about how we met, learn annoying details about each other, decide on disgusting pet names, that sort of thing." The more Grantaire thinks about it, the more he realizes how PERFECT Cosette is for this. With her cotton candy hair - half pastel blue, half pastel pink - nose piercing, and numerous tattoos, she's just the sort of person mom would LOVE to parade in front of her snobby family. And Grantaire would love to be the one to bring her there. The family never knew what to do with him – from one event to the next, he had never once brought a date of the same gender as the last.

"Oh, that will be fun, too! Thursday sounds perfect!You know where we should go? That Puerto Rican place near ‘Ponine’s apartment." The place is full of spice and colour, and it had always been one of Grantaire's favourites. "Like, 6?"

"Six it is, my angel! Six it is!" 

After the call, Grantaire made sure to put her in his phone. How have they never hung out before? With such a large group, it shouldn't come as a surprise; of course it would be hard to get everybody in rotation. Plus, since the moment Grantaire had met her, Cosette had been glued to Marius' side (or hands, or mouth).

He hurried to send out a text to his team of agents, informing them of the victory. Which was a blessing, a true blessing, since he was hit with bad news on both ends; Joly and Bossuet had failed in their missions. Grantaire would have to let them go. It was sad so make them turn in their badges; they were both a credit to the force. 

But it no longer mattered, because Grantaire had Cosette, and she was a godsend. Perhaps he would move in and propose to her before Marius got the chance.


	5. In Which Grantaire Receives What He Did Not Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i just love a tattooed Enjolras

Thursday   


Wednesday had left Grantaire exhausted. He and the rest of the his small crew had powered through their job, putting in extra hours to get that house painted a day earlier than planned. But that also meant he was left with Thursday off, and he used that to eagerly sleep in until noon. Woke leisurely, lay in bed for nearly an hour, and only rolled out from underneath his comforter once his stomach was growling. He took a long bath, read a little Ovid, and did some laundry.

Even though his date with Cosette was not truly a real date, Grantaire was excited, and made sure to wash all of his date night clothes. He was not always a carefully dressed man, truly, preferring comfort over fashion, but even he knew how to dress for a date. Especially for a classy lady like Cosette. He lay out warm corduroys, a dark purple sweater, his favourite brown beanie. 

Still. He had a little time to kill. Grantaire WAS known for rushing things, and he didn't want to get to the restaurant too quickly. His sketchbook provided a very nice distraction, swirls and whorls of pencil continuing a previously started picture of some kittens in a basket, a commission from Courf that he straight-up refused to explain. But Grantaire was never one to question kittens! They were too precious, anyways.

When his clock finally hit 5:30, Grantaire changed into his date clothes. He brushed his hair out, the curls bouncing back into shape to puff out just so under his beanie. Grantaire knew that his looks were not everybody's cup of tea, but no one could deny that he had amazing hair. He locked up and started the short trip over to La Cucina, which should be buzzing on a Thursday night. It was a well-known place in the area, and Grantaire would be willing to eat himself to death there, as long as he could be buried on the grounds. Or preserved and popped up in the back, thumbs up and a big smile on his dead face.

The restaurant was pleasantly full when he got there, but his table was still held for him. Cosette was not there, and there was no texts or calls. But there still about 10 minutes until their date really started, so he wasn't worried. Grantaire just fooled around on his phone, sipping at his water while Crushing the hell out of some Candy. Sure, no one else played it anymore, but Grantaire was in the low 1000s, level-wise, and would not give it up. He was determined to finish that damn game or die trying.

He was deep into a timed level, when a familiar voice said, "Sorry I'm late."

Cosette's voice, but a little deeper, a little more serious. Grantaire looked up from his phone to see not Cosette at all, but her beautiful brother. In his own sweater, tight jeans, undercut hair curling above his eyes. The spitting image of Cosette, minus the hair dye and pierced nose. The losing glissando, barely audible, played from Grantaire's phone as the time ran out on his level. "You're not Cosette."

"Your keen eye is amazing, Grantaire," he said, pulling out the chair and plopping into it."How you could tell the difference between the two of us is _truly_ astonishing."

"Ah, the ability of an artist to see the fine details!" He watched as those hands, calloused from building homes for the needy, holding signs at protests, carrying banners at rallies, took up a menu. "But I can't help but wonder...why are you here? Did I order the wrong Fauchelevent somehow? I swear I reviewed my order before placing it."

Enjolras watched him over the menu, a smile threatening to play over his lips. As always, it made Grantaire feel accomplished. "Ah, the item you ordered is out of stock. She's sick, something she caught from Pontmercy, no doubt. So she sent me to take notes in her place."

"Will she be alright by Sunday? I don't want her to risk getting sick."

"...if she's not alright, I'll come." Enjolras set his menu down and fold his arms. 

"You...will?" Grantaire was immediately suspicious. Judging by the grouchy look on his face, his body language, and that little twitch in his eyebrow, Enjolras was not happy about it. So what was going on? "I'm sorry, but that doesn't seem like your sort of thing."

"It's not, but there are. Circumstances." Enjolras narrowed his eyes, then sighed. "So here I am. Your. Date."

The mere notion made Grantaire's heart jump into his throat. "Perfect."

They both ordered, along with a shared appetizer of something cheesy and delicious. Cheese and Enjolras. Perfection. Grantaire took a couple moments just to bask in the glory of the moment, before their appetizer was brought out. He asked Enjolras about school let him go on a rant about the unfair practices of something or another. Grantaire actually paid a lot of attention to Enjolras, everything he stood for; to argue against him, Grantaire needed to understand his points. But for now, he was just too flabbergasted with his own good luck that he just let Enjolras talk.

Yet, when the appetizer came out, Grantaire cleared his throat. "So. We need to get down to business. Cosette and I have a whole relationship to craft."

He pulled out his trusty tablet, opened up a blank document. One hand full of cheese and chips, he typed away with the other, speaking the words as he typed them. "How we met....let's see. She has all those tattoos, I have tattoos...maybe at a parlor?"

"She does love her tattoos. I understand." Enjolras had a large tattoo over his back, Achilles' shield, and a small coffee bean on the inside of his right wrist. Which made sense - he was 98% coffee on a good day. "I suppose that would make sense."

Grantaire added that to his list. "Perfect. How long ago...for me to be bringing her to a family event?"

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, a hoop through one end. Grantaire wanted to bite it. But that was NOT the point of this dinner. It could be the point of before bed time, later on. "You're asking me? You know that I'm not exactly the paragon of relationships."

"How about one month casually, two months seriously, Romeo?" That was marked down as well. As well as a list of Grantaire's favourite things - food, colour, movie, type of music, brand of bar-b-que sauce, and type of socks. By then, they were done with their food and Enjolras was just finishing off his ice cream. The guy loved his sweets.

Grantaire tapped his chin with his straw. "Okay. One last thing. Do you know what Marius calls Cosette? Like for a pet name? Darling, baby, sweetcheeks?"

"If he called her sweetcheeks, she'd probably knock him out," Enjolras mused. Grantaire nodded; Cosette was not a 'sweetcheeks' sort of girl. "He does call her. Ugh. Honey bun."

Nearly choking on his own tongue, Grantaire had to lean back in his chair. "Honey bun?! REALLY?!"

"Believe me, I wish it were a lie." He threw back the melted remains of his ice cream like a shot.

"Well, I won't call her that. Let's just say she's 'honey.' And I'll be. Uhm." He couldn't think of anything - the names his previous lovers called him were not appropriate for polite company. Or humankind.

Enjolras' face was a little pink. "Muffin."

"...muffin?"

"You're like a muffin," Enjolras said, looking down at his own phone. "You're soft and spicy. Like a cinnamon ginger muffin. Uhm. At least. That's what Jehan says."

Grantaire watched him curiously. "Well. I am kind of the colour of one. Alright! Muffin it is!"

He saved the document, then sent it to Cosette's email. "Thank you, then. This has been loads of help. Just ask her to send me her favourite musicians, alright? Since her own brother doesn't even know."

"Listen; it changes every month, I can't keep track of it." Enjolras rolled his eyes, then pulled out his wallet.

Grantaire shook his head. "No, let me pay. This was a date, after all."

"Don't wink at me that way."

"...What?" It was Grantaire's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I didn't."

"You winked with your voice," he said calmly, sticking his wallet back into his pocket. "But fine. Thank you, then."

"You're welcome, cap." Grantaire paid, and walked Enjolras back to his car, small and electric, running from the solar panels that covered the roof of his garage. Enjolras offered him a ride home, but Grantaire surprised himself by saying no. All of a sudden, he was very wires, and would love the walk home to burn off some of that excess energy. 

Enjolras could do that to a man.


End file.
